


What She Doesn't Know

by Kat_inReverse



Series: Stiles' Adventures In Dilf-land [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark Sheriff Stilinski, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 05:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20237131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_inReverse/pseuds/Kat_inReverse
Summary: John wanted to protect his daughter from anything that might harm her. Sometimes that meant even himself. But what she doesn’t know couldn’t hurt her.





	What She Doesn't Know

John wanted to protect his daughter from anything that might harm her. Sometimes that meant even himself. But what she doesn’t know, couldn’t hurt her. 

He doesn’t remember swiping the pills from evidence, he doesn’t remember a lot of the things he did back then. Most of it was spent in an alcohol induced haze. He’s not proud of it, but at least it got him that first bottle of pills.

They mocked him on long lonely nights, buried deep in his nightstand. He didn’t use them right away, still warring with that part of himself and trying to ignore how twisted his feelings towards his daughter were growing.

He slipped up one night. He’d hit the whiskey a little too hard and she was wearing a short little pajama dress that really no longer fit her, but John couldn’t have been asked to take her shopping. Not back then, it could only be another painful reminder of Claudia’s absence. And Stiles knew that too, she would never ask him to go. He felt a little guilty that those short dresses only served to make him not want to buy her new clothes even more.

But she kept looking up at him with those large amber eyes and chewing her lip nervously, she was worried about him. Fidgeting beside him on the couch. Dress only _just_ reaching the tops of her thighs. It took everything in him not to watch that hemline too closely, she was too smart for that. So instead, he ignored her worried looks and just barely kept his eyes away from where she had her fingers in her mouth, chewing on her nails while that soft looking tongue darted out here and there.

It pained him to see how much he stressed her out. He was the parent, he was supposed to be the strong one here. He wanted to ease her nerves and stop her worry, so he decided to use a pill. 

Only one of the little broken ones. He didn’t want to give her too much and he wasn’t entirely sure how much to give. He’d read the medical charts of the victims of drugs like these and it was always a lot higher, he tried to account for body weight as best he could and ground the pill down to a powder, slipping it in some hot chocolate as a treat for them. 

She took the hot chocolate eagerly, blissfully unaware of the drug slowly entering her system. She kept giving him those glances, but he did spike his own hot chocolate and she must have known there was alcohol in his. She wouldn’t say a word though. He was grateful.

Slowly, her eyes started droop and she could barely keep her head up. He took her empty mug from her limp hands and set it on the coffee table, watching closely as her eyes fell shut and finally stayed that way. 

He spent a moment examining her, only making sure she was alright he promised himself. He held his fingers to the pulse point of her neck to be sure that her heartbeat was still strong, she was still breathing normally. She just looked like she was asleep. He relaxed then, drinking more of his hot chocolate, which in reality was mostly alcohol. 

That’s why he’d done it, he swore to himself, he just wanted her to stop worrying. He knew he’d be fine, but she didn’t understand that. She thought his drunkenness was frightening, mostly John just enjoyed the numbness of it all. 

It was that very numbness that allowed him to stroke over the baby soft skin of her thighs. 

Again he made excuses. It was just soft. He only liked the texture. It wasn’t meant to be inappropriate. And yet, his fingers grazed closer and closer to the edge of her dress, traveling along her inner thighs where her legs were parted just slightly. Higher and higher he allowed himself to go, until he was brushing against soft cotton panties and promising himself it wasn’t so bad. If she didn’t know, he couldn’t have been traumatizing her. 

The logic was flawed, but he’d convinced himself of it it’s accuracy.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and John went rigid, hands frozen in place, worried he’d given her too little and she was waking up after only ten minutes of sleep. But she never woke, it was an unconscious sound. That drunk and desperate part of himself was convinced that the soft little noise was in fact because of him. He wanted to believe he made her feel good. 

It was that dangerous thought that allowed him to lift her small body into his arms and carry her upstairs. He laid her out on her own bed, tracing a finger over the soft curve of her Cupid’s bow, pushing lightly against her plump bottom lip. He undressed her slowly. Carefully. Worried he’d wake her despite the drug induced sleep. But mostly he just wanted to savor every moment of it, despite how hard his heart was pounding at the wrongness of it all. 

When she was laid bare before him, John finally looked his fill, sliding his hands over her thin frame. They looked so massive on her tiny body. He thumbed over tiny budding nipples, fascinated with the way they hardened almost immediately and her lips parted on a sigh. That only strengthened his drunken belief that this wasn’t harming her. He felt bold then, confident that she wouldn’t wake up and determined to bring more of those pretty soft sighs from her lips. 

He slid one large hand down her belly until it was settled between her thighs, using the pad of one finger to rub over the bud between her folds. Her body didn’t move, but her breathing quickened, until she was panting softly in the silence between them. He didn’t stop his rubbing even as he pulled his cock free of his sweatpants, jerking himself off over her body. Trying to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t hurting her, she wouldn’t even remember. 

He stroked himself off until he came across her small chest, groaning as some splashed across her cheek and over her lips. He watched her for a moment, tucked away back into his sweats, and marveled at the beauty of his sweet little girl. He could have watched her like this all night. 

In reality, it was only a few minutes before he left to bring a wet washcloth to clean her up with. Making sure there was no evidence before dressing her once more and tucking her into bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead just like he always did. 

It was only back in his own room that he finally broke down. The weight of what he’d done was too much, he hated himself for touching her the way he had. Drunk as he was, he’d known better. He kept his desires in check for years and he intended to keep it that way once again. 

That night, he dumped every bottle of alcohol down the drain, he didn’t miss them. Not really, he was ready to be sober again. But as he held the bottle of pills over the toilet bowl, ready to flush them all, he couldn’t do it. 

And so they sat, buried in his nightstand, waiting to be used again. 

He threw himself into his work, guilt eating away at him so much that he could hardly look at his daughter. He hated that he left her alone more often than not, but she was happy for him. She was proud of him for staying sober, although neither of them mentioned his recovery much. He worried that she might have remembered the night somehow. That maybe she wasn’t actually that knocked out. But her personality never changed around him, he could see no body language to show that she was uncomfortable or scared around him. And because of that, he started to believe it was okay. That everything worked out. 

The guilt held him back from doing it again. He may have gotten away with it once, but he was still fighting that sick and twisted part of himself. 

When the urges got too strong, he’d settled for a nanny cam app. The camera itself was inconspicuously placed inside one of her teddies lining the shelves. She was old enough to not want to play with them anymore, but not old enough to resent their presence in her room. It was the lesser of two evils. He was convinced that if he could just watch her sleep or catch glimpses of her changing, he wouldn’t need to use the pills. Not if he could just watch. Sure, it was wrong, but in his mind, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. 

He caught only mundane things usually. He watched her sleep, watched her play video games past bedtime, he got to watch her change. He loved catching glimpses of her soft pale skin.

A much more recent development was being able to watch her explore her body, discovering pleasure and the things she could do to herself. She was eager, too rough and focused only on the end goal. John wanted so badly to teach her how to slow down, to focus on the journey before the goal. He’d held himself back and fucked furiously into his fist. Ignoring how much he wanted to go into her room and teach her things she’d never felt before. 

She often woke up grumpy the morning after her little explorations, John was beginning to wonder if she’d ever gotten herself off at all. He could tell she was growing frustrated, the pent up arousal dragging her down. 

He only wanted to help her, that’s why he pulled the pill bottle out again. He was only helping her release the frustration and urges. If he got something out of it as well, who could blame him? 

It was that thought that allowed him to do it again. He was only helping. It wasn’t that bad when she needed him. What kind of father would he be if he let her suffer when he knew how to help?

So, he made them milkshakes and laced hers with the drug. He watched greedily as she fell asleep and he carried her to bed, making quick work of undressing her. She’d grown up quite a bit since he’d last done this. He had whole new curves to appreciate. He didn’t miss their development, but it was much different viewing them up close as he was. 

His focus was on bringing her pleasure this time, he was only training her body to know what to look for. She had to have been feeling what her body could do, in whatever dream she was in, her body responded so perfectly for him that he chose to believe she was enjoying herself.

He took her apart slowly, analyzing every slight reaction to his exploration. He found that she had wonderfully sensitive nipples, her clit seemed to respond well to gentle strokes rather than the harsh rubbing he’d seen her do, if the way she seemed to be soaking for him was to be believed, he even found that she sighed so prettily when he grazed two fingers against her g-spot. He knew when she came, there was a soft sigh on her lips and she clenched so beautifully around his fingers. 

Jerking off was an afterthought. Once he’d brought all the pleasure he could to his little girl, he brought himself off with quick jerky movements. 

It became a routine. Whenever he could tell she was growing too frustrated and in need of release, he’d slip her a pill and bring her off on his fingers. Whispering images and fantasies for her in her sleep. His hope was that she was dreaming of her daddy, prompted by his sweet words. 

She always woke up so much happier and more energized the days he helped her get off. It only served to reinforce his belief that he was doing the right thing. That his baby girl needed him and only he could help her. 

Some days she would act so shy around him that he knew the fantasies were working, that she’d dreamt of her own father bringing her off. He loved those days. He’d rub her back and hold a comforting hand to the back of her neck as often as he could. The touch was innocent, just a father showing affection, but he knew it fueled the poor girl’s confusion. 

When the pills ran out, John thought he could be done. He’d taught the girl what she needed to know. He could see through the nanny cam that she was following his lessons and discovering what she liked, she didn’t need him anymore. He could be satisfied with just watching, he had to be. He’d always promised himself he was only doing it for her, if she didn’t need him anymore, he had to be content with that.

But of course he wasn’t. A few months passed and he was itching out of his skin to feel her beneath him again. There were so many things he never got to do to her. He wanted to taste her, wanted to feel the wet heat of her mouth on his cock, and what he wanted more than anything was to fuck that sweet little cunt of hers. 

Swiping from evidence again wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be. They were a small town, security wasn’t exactly the strictest and covering his tracks was easy. He hardly even felt the crushing guilt that used to accompany owning the drugs. He’d talked himself into believing it was for her own good. Or he simply didn’t care anymore. 

His sessions with her stayed fairly infrequent, he needed to savor every pill. He had a limited supply after all, He couldn’t bleed the supply dry at the station, they’d know something was off and all signs would inevitably point back to him and he couldn’t have that. 

The problem solved itself when a deputy arrested a known drug dealer in the area. John made a deal with the guy. He managed to get the man out of sure jail time on a technicality in exchange for a regular delivery of Stiles’ special pills. It couldn’t have worked out better. 

Without the need to limit his pill usage, his visits became a regular once or twice a week visit. 

He spent an hour between her legs one night, feeling like he was rediscovering his little girl’s weaknesses with his tongue. He ate her out until tears had begun to seep from her eyes, by the way she’d clenched around his fingers, she’d come a few times by then. 

Another night, when she’d been particularly bratty, he fucked her throat. He made sure she knew this was how bad girl’s were treated. He didn’t get her off that night, just slid his cock between her plump lips and let himself enjoy the way she suckled softly. A reflex of her oral fixation he was sure. It was an incredible feeling, better than he imagined her mouth could feel like. He reminded her of how good only her daddy could make her feel as he thrust in and out. Pleasure was a reward for good girls, and she wasn’t behaving like a good girl was she? He punctuated his scolding with a few deep thrusts and came down her throat, enjoying that she’d eventually wake up with the taste of him on her tongue far too much. 

Again he had to wonder if his words would even get through to her in dreamland, but she woke up with a sore throat and her voice was rough as she apologized for her behavior. He counted that as a win. 

He waited to properly fuck her until she’d gotten a little older, worried that he’d hurt her despite her ability to take as many fingers as he gave her. It was her sixteenth birthday treat, his gift to her, although admittedly it was mostly for himself. 

Stiles was a drunken mess that night. She tried to sneak her way into her bedroom undetected after a night out with Scott. He let her believe that her stumbling and snickering was as quiet as she believed it was. He remembered being young and dumb. But that didn’t mean he was going to let her get away with it. 

Not surprisingly, the girl was already spread out on the bed and only half undressed. She barely turned her head to see him, “hey dad! We had a really good time at the… at the- um. The skate place.”

John tried not to smirk at her response. “The skate place huh? I was under the impression that you and Scott were going to play laser tag,” he hummed, stalking closer. She looked so cute when she was helpless and vulnerable. In her state of mind, she didn’t seem to be able to pull her shirt the rest of the way off her head and she was only wearing one shoe. 

She shrugged, “sure. It was fun,” she mumbled, head dropping back against the blankets without even a hint of concern. 

That’s how he knew she was completely wasted. She would never speak to him that way, let alone act so unconcerned with being caught in a lie. He sighed, moving closer to help her remove the shirt and flannel she was tangled in. It was her ‘special occasion’ flannel. It was tighter and fitted and she seemed to be trying to take off the shirt underneath first. She didn’t fight him on his help, he didn’t think she could if she wanted to, but she didn’t turn down his assistance. 

John took her face in his hand, trying to force her to look at him but it wasn’t working much. She seemed to be looking through him, eyes glazed over if they opened at all and a completely lost smile on her lips. He knew she wouldn’t remember a single thing. And he’d always wanted to hear her moan after all, It seemed like the perfect opportunity and he couldn’t pass that up. 

He slid his hands over her hips, watching for her reaction but she only squirmed and giggled, “tickles.” And oh wasn’t that a treat. He’d always had to settle for the softest of sighs and little signs from her body, he felt spoiled with her giggles and smiles. And he was just getting started. 

Her heel, singular that is, was the next thing to come off, he could see the other across the room where she must have kicked it off in the vague direction of the closet. He tossed the shoe to join the other, rubbing her feet where he knew she must have been achy, it earned him a groan of appreciation. “Feel good sweetheart?” He asked. She’d always complained about wearing the heels, but for some reason she wore them for most special occasions. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, “really good. The fancy shoes hurt, but Lydia said I had to wear em, and you jus’ don’t argue with Lydia,” she snorted, words slurring so much that John might not have understood her if he didn’t know her so well already. 

John quirked a brow in question, “is that so? You’ve never had a problem arguing with anyone else who would give you the time of day,” he teased, focusing in on the pressure points of her foot before moving on to the other. The massage only lasted another minute or so. Her groans of appreciation, innocent as they may be, were getting to him too much. He slid his hands up her calves and along her thighs, enjoying the familiarity of it all while it was still such a new experience to feel her squirm beneath his touch. 

Stiles laughed at that, “everyone else aren’t Lydia. She’s scary,” she was slightly breathless, feeling the effects of his touch already it seemed. Despite that, her tone never changed. She didn’t show signs of becoming uncomfortable, she didn’t cringe away from him like she might have if she was more aware of the situation.

“And I’m not scary?” He asked, smirking down at the girl as he popped the button of her jeans and began to slide them down her legs with some trouble. Stiles helped him by wiggling as much as her body would allow, but the jeans were tight and had to be practically peeled away from her body. 

She snorted, “no sir-ee, not scary. You’re my sweet daddy,” she claimed, looking positively precious as she smiled up at him. Well, him or the wall behind his head, he wasn’t entirely sure, but the effect was dazzling anyway. She looked so sweet and she was wearing lacy panties and a matching bra that he’d certainly never bought for her. She dressed up, he wondered if she did so because she hoped a boy might have gotten into her pants tonight or if the lace just made her feel differently. She always claimed her fancy flannel and heels made her hold herself differently, maybe the underwear was an extension of that. Regardless, the name she used for him went straight to his dick, she hadn’t called him daddy in years. He wondered if the fantasies he whispered in her drugged out state were really getting through to her, if she was dreaming of him and thinking of him the way he thought of her. 

John released the breath he’d been holding and nodded, “that’s right princess, I’m your sweet daddy. And you know I’ll always take care of you don’t you?” He asked, sliding his hands over her waist before sliding them beneath her back to unclasp her bra, “I’ll always make you feel good,” he said, tugging the bra away and dropping it with the rest of her discarded clothes. He watched for a reaction but she just stretched her arms high above her head, groaning softly with her back bowed as the tension released. John’s mouth watered at the display, fingers ghosting over her ribs and brushing against the swell of her breast. 

“Yes, always safe and cared for,” she hummed, eyes half open but she was smiling up at him as if this was a perfectly normal situation. As if she was mostly naked in front of him all the time. Well, she was. But she didn’t know that. 

John thumbed over her nipple, watching as it pebbled at his touch and she shivered. “I’d do anything for you. No request is too much,” he said, leaning down to flick his tongue over her nipple. He was rewarded with a soft gasp, she squirmed and John thought she might be trying to push herself further up the bed to get away from the unexpected feeling, but there was no power in her squirming. He held her still anyway, hands gripping her waist and pressing her down into the mattress more. 

“oh…shit,” she panted, legs still pushing against the bed as she tried to wiggle restlessly. Her hands fell to his shoulders though, not pushing him away. It was new territory, she’d never experienced this awake before, it must have been overwhelming. 

John shushed her softly, trying to soothe her nerves, “be still, daddy’s going to make everything better,” he promised, blowing cool air against the wet bud and smiling as she made a high pitched noise. He moved on to the neglected other nipple, flicking his tongue over it and scraping his teeth gently. She seemed to like that, not that he hadn’t known it already, but it was nice to finally hear her stream of moans. She never did know how to stay quiet. It was refreshing to finally hear her reactions, she was an expressive girl, they were as loud as he’d always known they would be. 

He let her try to squirm up the bed when he sat up again. She couldn’t hold herself up enough to move much and her hands ended up sliding along the bed more than anything. Her thighs were pressing together in a way he’d seen her do before. Usually it was when she got all worked up while they were watching a movie and she needed to get off in her room. He always knew he was in for a show when he checked in on her with the nanny cam. 

The lace panties were the last to go, just sliding them down her thighs was almost as mesmerizing as that first time he had his way with her. He’d have to buy her more lace, it was apparently his favorite thing to take off of her. 

Spreading her thighs was easy, she hardly protested, not that she could have overpowered him in her state anyway. He spent only a moment gazing down at her in all of her beauty, admiring how her folds seemed to glisten for him and her eyes were half lidded as they gazed up at him. 

But then he buried his head in her cunt and listened to her scream in pleasure. He put every trick he’d ever learned from his nighttime visits to use and held her close as he drove her wild. He held her down when the stimulation became too much. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself beyond tugging at his hair or arching her back off the bed as he made her come on his tongue until she cried with his fingers buried deep. But he knew what was best for her, knew from experience that she could come back to back if he did just the right tricks. 

By the time he pulled away she was a mess of tears, but she was panting on a high that she’d likely never experienced before. While awake that is. He wiped her tears gently, waiting for her to come down before he could move on, “what did I tell you sweetheart? Daddy takes such good care of you doesn’t he?” 

She nodded, eyes still shut in bliss, “Daddy takes good care of me,” she slurred, either from the alcohol or the pleasure. Either way, John was happy with her response. 

Once she seemed to have calmed down, he brought his hand back to slide between her folds just to test it. She whined and tried to close her legs but John kept them open. “Now now, Daddy deserves a treat doesn’t he?” He asked. She was pouting, eyes still closed and incredibly out of it, but she nodded her agreement. 

After he finished checking on her, John pushed the waistband of his pajama bottoms down and freed his aching cock. Her greedy cunt sucked him in effortlessly, ready for him despite Stiles’ earlier protest. 

She felt like heaven. Her insides like living velvet encompassing his cock like it was made for him, warm and wet and so tight. John wanted nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt and stay there, but his needs demanded more. 

He fucked into her slowly at first, savoring the moment, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he let their pleasure build. He didn’t fuck her harder until she sighed a breathless, “daddy please” and he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. His thrusts were deep, brutally pistoning his hips in and out of her until she was scratching at his back and crying out with every thrust. A litany of “yes” and “daddy”, “please” and “harder”. He reached between them and thumbed over her clit in those same gentle strokes he knew she loved, such a contrast to the brutal pace he set. She came on his dick with a delicious clenching of her insides around him and John almost came right then and there as well, but he just barely had the sense to pull out and come across her stomach. 

“I’m the only one who will make you feel like this good. Don’t you forget that princess,” he reminded her, breathing hard as he tucked himself back into his pajama bottoms. He almost left her as she was, enjoying too much the way her legs were spread so invitingly while his release cooled on her stomach. But no, he couldn’t give himself away too easily. He wanted plausible deniability after all. He cleaned her up and dressed her in one of his old large sweaters that draped over her small frame. She’d stollen it from him years ago and he never had the heart to take it back when she looked so cute in it. He put nothing else on her though, hoping she’d come down for breakfast without putting any panties on. He knew he couldn’t exactly do anything, not with her sober and awake, but the thought was nice. 

He slept that night content with the knowledge that he would probably never get to have her so vocal again. Her being so drunk was a complete rarity, she tended to hold herself back with alcohol. That ever-present fear of ending up like him keeping her from allowing herself to let loose. His drunkenness after Claudia would forever impact Stiles’ life, whether she knew its effect or not. But that weakness enabled him to give in to his desires all that time ago, for that he would forever be grateful. 

John made them a full breakfast the next morning. There were eggs, sausages, bacon, hash browns, and it wouldn’t be complete without pancakes. As generous as he was feeling that morning, he also felt like punishing her for drinking. She must have had a killer hangover, and John wasn't making it any easier by blasting music while he cooked and singing along as off-key and loudly as he could. 

She eventually stumbled into the kitchen with a frown, bleary eyed and focused only on the pot of coffee he’d made and shutting off his music with a grunt of annoyance. When she reached up for a mug, he noted with delight that she was not in fact wearing any underwear. 

He knew he’d been wrong last night, he couldn’t go on without hearing her moan for her daddy. But that was a problem for another day.

Stiles’ face lit up at the plate he offered her, loaded with all of her favorites. “What’s the occasion?” She asked, “you haven’t made breakfast like this in forever.” 

“It’s a late birthday breakfast. I’m sorry that I had the morning shift yesterday, I should have done this earlier,” he smiled, squeezing her shoulder in apology before turning away to serve his own plate and join her at the table. 

She was watching him as they ate. Studying him. John acted as normal as ever. He’d had plenty of practice playing innocent, “something wrong?” He asked, as she watched him with narrow eyes. 

Eventually it seemed she shook off her suspicions, smiling almost in a daze, “nothing. I just- I had a really great dream,” she hummed, munching on a strip of bacon and as she looked back at her plate. He could see a flush rise to her cheeks and her legs crossed under the table as she seemed to be recalling their fun that night. Or the fun that she thought was a dream at least. 

John had to hide the way that filled him with pride, “oh yeah? What about?” He asked, keeping it casual, but he was definitely interested in her response. 

She flushed harder, barely making eye contact with him as she cleared her throat, “I barely remember. Just… glimpses. You know the deal, rainbows, unicorns… batman, the usual girl dreams,” she said, lying of course. And John knew it, but he let her lie. Too happy that she seemed to have enjoyed herself almost as much as he had. 

But he couldn’t risk trying something when she was sober, a fantasy was one thing, actually fucking her father was another. But he could make the transition a little easier on her. A few more of these barely aware fuckings and comments with suggestive undertones, she’d surely crack. 

With the help of his supplier, he managed to drug Stiles with something new some nights. He didn’t ask questions, he just knew the different things he gave her made her incredibly giggly and sometimes hallucinate slightly. She claimed to taste colors and feel things much more strongly. She’d spend full minutes just petting the couch, finding the texture fascinating. Other drugs just made her sluggish and barely responsive. He liked when she was giggly best, but he didn’t do it often. He didn’t want to make her an addict without her knowledge. 

He didn’t just fuck her on those nights, he made love to her. As cheesy as it sounds. He took her apart in his hands and let her ride him with as slow a pace as she could manage in her drugged out state. And when it was over, he held her close and dressed her once more. 

Stiles had grown increasingly shy around him. She was confused, she didn’t know what was reality and what was dream anymore. He could tell that her little fantasies were getting to her head, she was going through a similar inner turmoil that he had. She wanted him, but she constantly fought it. Desire fighting the belief that she should not feel this way for her father. 

He knew the time was right when they were having their usual movie night and she kept squirming on the couch, thighs pressed together in the way he knew so well. She was getting worked up for him and all he was doing was petting a hand through her hair. 

Poor thing. He’d trained her so well to react to his touch and she fought it so hard, the traditional notions of morality no doubt clouding her judgement. 

John weighed the outcomes of his next move, wondering if this was the right time to do this. As well as he knew his daughter, he wasn’t all knowing, he could make a mistake. 

He patted her knee, “Your report card came in. I’m proud of you,” he smiled, the touch would have been innocent. But he left it there, thumb stroking her soft skin idly. He had plausible deniability. It wasn’t an overtly sexual touch, but between them, it could have been. 

Stiles gasped softly, barely noticeable, “hm? Oh- thanks. Yeah, I tried my best,” she shrugged, he could tell she was flustered. 

He kept his hand where it was, making her swallow thickly and unable to focus on the movie in front of them. His hand slowly began to stroke her leg, absently, as if he wasn’t aware of the action. She kept flicking her eyes at him, watching for any sign that he knew what he was up to, or possibly she was nervous he would notice the effect he was having on her. 

Her legs parted slowly, only just enough that she wasn’t squeezing them shut any longer. His hand slid along her thigh, brushing higher and higher. It was so reminiscent of his first encounter of this kind with her. Except this time she was wearing little pajama shorts instead of that precious dress that left her so exposed to him. 

John pretended he didn’t notice the way Stiles was practically hyperventilating, trying desperately to stay in control. He didn’t miss it when the soft noise escaped her throat. She froze, eyes wide as she looked at him. Frightened of what he might think. “I- um… was just clearing my throat?” She tried, clearing her throat weakly as if to prove that her moan wasn’t in fact a moan. 

“No. You weren’t,” he hummed, sliding his hand up her thigh more deliberately. 

Stiles shuddered at that, “Daddy I swear- it wasn’t…” 

Her mouth fell open in shock at what she’d said, she seemed ready to frantically explain it away again but John shushed her gently, “tell me the truth Mieczysława.” She sat up straighter at the name, always compelled to honesty when he pulled the no nonsense father act on her. Even if it was taking on a whole new meaning for her in this moment, she really enjoyed it if her squirming was anything to go by. 

His little girl took a deep breath, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously as she tried to work up the nerve to speak. He really ought to put her out of her misery, but he enjoyed how nervous she was a little too much. 

“Well, I’m…um, I’m a little worked up? I should- I should go to my room I think,” She tried to explain, placing her hand over his where it had stopped its rubbing on her thigh. 

John played dumb. He wanted to hear her say it, “worked up? Are you overwhelmed sweetheart? Did you take your meds today?” 

She groaned softly, in embarrassment and slight frustration at having to spell it out for him. “No- I mean yes I took my meds. I’m not overwhelmed because of that. I’m-“ her voice dropped to an ashamed whisper, “I’m horny.” 

Her voice was barely audible. He wanted to feign deaf too, but he took mercy on her. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about that Mieszka, it’s a natural feeling,” he said, trailing a finger over the edge of her shorts, “let daddy take care of you.” 

His voice was low, husky in a way she’d never heard before. It made her squirm with want. Even as she was staring at him like he’d grown another head, “dad- don’t be ridiculous,” she breathed, but she lacked conviction. She wanted him to take care of her, that much was clear in the way her body responded so quickly for him or the way she gazed up at him with such poorly concealed desire. 

He shushed her again. “Just relax, give in to your desires. It’s my job to give you everything you want, to make sure you want for nothing in life,” he said, “haven’t I always taken such good care of you?” He hooked a finger into the waistband of her shorts and tugged them off of her with very little trouble, gazing down at the silky blue panties that she was already soaking through. He dragged a finger over the wet fabric, watching her shiver and bite her lip. He was so close, he could see the already weak resolve crumble in the wake of just one of his fingers. 

Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Stiles nodded twice, “yes daddy, you’ve always taken good care of me. I trust you.”

John had waited so long for this moment that he felt almost euphoric as he growled and brought their lips together hungrily. She was shocked for a moment, but she responded naturally, letting him lick into her mouth and dominate the kiss. He slid one hand under her shirt, feeling along her baby soft skin until he cupped her breast and thumbed over her nipple. She jumped at the touch, nervous no doubt, but she didn’t tell him to stop. He pulled away and smirked at her reaction, tugging her shirt over her head and enjoying the sight he was met with. Her perky little breasts were heaving with her panting, already so worked up with nerves and how well she responded to nipple play. She was gazing up at him shyly, doe eyes blinking so innocently, he had to remind himself that this was the first time for her, she hadn’t been awake to hear his many words of praise for her body yet. 

“You’re gorgeous baby girl,” he sighed, kissing a path down her chest and loving the way it went pink just for him. She always flushed so prettily when he complimented her. She wanted to deny it, he could see it on her face, the urge to downplay her beauty was always strong. But one look at him and she stayed silent, she believed her father would never lie to her. And John never did. He withheld the truth occasionally and drugged her without her knowledge, sure, but he didn’t lie. 

He licked over her nipple, gentle at first, rolling the other between his fingers so it wasn’t forgotten. He rotated every so often, making sure to give each bud more than enough attention. Stiles had melted into the couch, eyes closed as she let her father make her feel good. She slid her hands through his hair, across his shoulders and along his arms as she tried to stay occupied. He knew she wanted to bury her fingers in her pussy and get off quickly, but John wanted to make it last. 

Eventually, when he’d had his fill, he kissed a trail down her body. She squirmed more and more the closer he got to those silky panties she was still wearing. He kissed along the edge of the fabric and rubbed his fingers over the growing wet patch, smirking as she breathed, “please,” and let out a shuddering sigh. 

John couldn’t deny her. 

She yelped when he pulled the silky fabric down her thighs in one quick tug. He didn’t give her time to be nervous about being naked in front of him, he just buried his face between her thighs where he belonged and held her down as she shook beneath him. 

He held nothing back. He didn’t even feign tentative exploration. He just put every bit of knowledge that he’d learned about her body to use. He was basking in her screams of pleasure and enjoying how she dug her nails into his shoulder, he even liked the way she held his head down as if he was ever planning on moving from his spot. 

One was never enough for him. He licked her through the first orgasm and held her down firmly as she cried and tried to wriggle out of his grasp at the overstimulation. But he knew her body, better than she did apparently, she could go again. He slid his fingers inside and stroked her from within as well, “one more baby girl, you can do it,” he said, voice rough, before resuming his task with his tongue. 

“No I- _I can’t_. Please dad it’s too mu- too much,” she whined, tears forming as she tugged at his hair in her efforts to get him off. 

John held firm, enjoying her thrashing and crying more than he thought he would. But it was all over in a few more minutes, Stiles was screaming into another climax, body practically vibrating at the second release. 

John held her through it, petting her hair and stroking her soft skin anywhere he could reach while he waited. Eventually, when the deep shivers stopped, she looked up at him as if he helped her discover the secrets of the universe. “What did I say? Daddy knows best don’t I?” He smiled, tilting her chin up to look at him when she tried to hide the way blushed so prettily for him. 

Stiles nodded, “you do,” she whispered, shy at the answer. 

John couldn’t have that. “What was that?” He asked, grabbing a handful of her ass and pulling her body flush against his. The hard line of his cock straining against his pajama bottoms where it pressed against her. 

He could see it in her eyes, how much she wanted him inside of her in that moment. But, he wasn’t going to fuck her until she answered properly, confidently. 

“Daddy knows best,” she agreed, and god the way she said his name made him throb against her. She must have felt his reaction to her. There was a wicked glint in her eye and before he knew it, she was sitting in his lap and grinding into him. She tugged his shirt over his head and slid her hands over his body, looking her fill, appreciating him in a way she’d never been able to before. Not openly at least. She brought their lips together in a heated kiss, licking into his mouth and tasting herself on his tongue with a soft groan. 

Together, they shoved his bottoms down far enough until he could kick them off. Unwilling to break their position or part long enough to make it easier on themselves. She lined his cock up with her entrance and sank down on his dick with a deep groan, her body welcoming him smoothly. 

She fit like a glove. Just like she always did. It felt different this time though, similar and yet so much better. Once he focused on the way she was riding his cock with such desire and want, he realized what had changed. She was an active participant, she was in control of her body and she was using it to full advantage. Her body didn’t often surprise him anymore, but she’d surprised him now. 

He looked up at her as if it was the first time, noticing every little thing as if it was brand new. He kissed a patch of freckles over her ribs, gripped her hips and her ass, licked and nipped at her nipples. All while singing her praise, she was so tight, so beautiful, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her riding his cock as perfectly as she was. 

In all of his night visits, he never realized there was something so wonderful missing from their sessions. Stiles was so into it, he’d forgotten how incredibly hot it was to have such a willing partner. When she was asleep or drugged out, she was unaware of the situation. He enjoyed when she took control like this, bouncing in his lap with purpose. She was a true vision to behold as she rode him, it was breathtaking how stunning his little girl was. 

When her rhythm got jerky and she had that familiar restless edge to her movements, John fucked up into her. Meeting her on every downturn of her thrusts. She moaned so desperately for him, he was close to coming just listening to her cries of passion and feeling how tight her sweet cunt was. 

“Daddy please- please I’m so close,” she whined, she was slightly breathless and her voice went high pitched at every hard thrust which was utterly adorable.

John groaned, reaching between them and circling his fingers over her clit roughly. She mewled at the touch, only a few more thrusts and she was coming on his cock. Her body clenched tight around him, tighter than he was used to, he couldn’t stop himself from coming inside her. 

They collapsed into the couch. John with his head thrown back on the cushions, hands rubbing up and down her back in a soothing motion. Stiles with her head pillowed on his shoulder, petting his hair and his arms and whatever she could get her hands on. They were both panting and shivering at remaining shocks of pleasure. 

It was only when he realized that he was still inside her that he freaked out. “fuck,” he groaned, the word drawn out with his disappointment in himself, “I wasn’t wearing protection,” he sighed, halting in his petting her soft skin. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m on the pill,” she shrugged, “and don’t give me the speech. I know there’s diseases out there and it’s not enough protection and blah blah blah. I’m not fucking anyone else, try as I may, the guys I’m attracted to don’t tend to want to fuck the sheriff’s underage daughter,” she smirked. 

John was a little upset he just barely found out about the birth control, he mourned all the times he could’ve come inside that velvety heat and claimed his little girl for his own. He was relieved that they didn’t have to worry about unplanned pregnancies, for the most part at least, but the second part of her explanation made him frown. “the sheriff’s underage daughter huh? What kind of guys are you attracted to that would have to worry about the age of consent?” He asked, raising a brow curiously at the girl.

She flushed at the question, “I have a thing for older guys. I’m not talking _college_ older. I’m talking salt and pepper daddies with strong hands and experience in their eyes,” she sighed, biting her lip shyly and wasn’t that adorable. 

He had a feeling his visits and whispered fantasies had more of an impact on her than he realized. Or maybe she was always going to end up like this, attracted to older men and impaled on his cock as much as he wanted. “Well. Maybe if the sheriff facilitates these encounters. I can get you some playmates,” he smirked, loving the way she lit up in delight at the idea. 

“Really dad? You’d let me?” She asked, sitting up and making them both wince as it made his cock pull out of her at an odd angle. 

John nodded though, he could never deny his little girl anything, “of course princess. You can have all the playmates you desire, as long as you know who your daddy is,” he said, voice a little rougher and possessive at the last bit. 

Stiles shivered in response, “yes sir. I mean- yes daddy. None of them could take your place, I swear. I’ve been wanting this since before I knew what my body could even do. I’m yours. Always,” she reassured, leaning down to kiss him again, soft and sweet. 

“Good.” John couldn’t wait to know his little girl as intimately awake as he knew her while she was drugged. 

This didn’t mean he was going to stop drugging her occasionally. No, he enjoyed how powerless she was to his advances. There was something incredibly desirable about taking her while she was so unaware and vulnerable. 

He was also curious to watch others fuck his little girl. She took it so well, he knew it would be a show.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think the nickname Mieszka exists for Mieczysława.  
But Mieszko is a shortened version of Mieczysław so I decided to use it anyway.


End file.
